


Fragmented Memories

by peggywrites



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Injury, Major character death - Freeform, it's a fic about the gang dying one by one, what can i say???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:29:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peggywrites/pseuds/peggywrites
Summary: Death comes for each of the members of Lupin's gang in his own way, no matter how unfair it may be.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Fragmented Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with Lupin angst. This really began with me & my friend swapping headcanons that there's no way Jigen lives past 50, and well, here we are. It's a short one, but it's a sad one. I promise I'll write some fluff to ease the pain eventually. Also Zenigata IS part of Lupin's gang and I would fight anyone who said otherwise.

Jigen Daisuke is the first of them to go.

It feels ... unreal. The gunman always joked about how he would be kicking the bucket before he reached the beautiful age of fifty. On drunken nights they would all take bets on which of them would go first, Jigen always bet on himself, despite there not being any feasible way for him to win the money if he was right. Lupin doesn’t think any of them thought he would be right.

It’s not in some blaze of glory where he’s sacrificing himself so everyone else can get out okay. He doesn’t have a smile plastered on his face like they joked he would. No clever cowboy phrases, no one-liners, no dramatic music playing like the end of a Western Jigen loved so much. It’s messy and unceremonious. The heist goes wrong in every sense that it could go wrong. Jigen dies in Lupin’s arms, bullet holes decorating his chest and arms, gasping and squeaking out unformed words as he clenched tightly to Lupin’s sleeve. Zenigata is with them, once again on a temporary truce with the gang as he was wrapped in to a battle much bigger than both sides. He watched as Lupin tried desperately to keep Jigen’s blood from pooling out of him, watched him beg Jigen to say whatever it was he was trying to say before the dullness took hold in his friend’s eyes. Chaos still surrounded them as Lupin shouted at Jigen to wake up, to say something, to do _**anything**_ , but the inspector knew they had to run. They had to get out of there while they could, or they would all end up as passengers of the ferryman. Goemon rounded the corner of their hiding spot, dodging bullets as he did. And Zenigata had to tear the screaming and inconsolable Lupin from his friend’s body before Goemon scooped up the lifeless man.  
  
The funeral is nothing special by many means. It consists of the Lupin, Goemon, Fujiko, Zenigata, and Jigen’s younger sister that the inspector had heard about, but never met. He doesn’t attempt to arrest any of the three thieves at the small gathering. It wouldn’t be fair, or right, or even remotely okay. Parts of the service is said in a language Zenigata doesn’t understand, though Goemon is kind enough to tell him it’s Hebrew. Jigen is buried in New York in a Jewish cemetery near his mother. The gunman often joked that Lupin would put him into an early grave, and that he wanted Lupin to bury him so the thief could let him down one final time. Jokes like that seemed far away now, as did the man who made them. Lupin mumbled something about it not being fair, that Jigen himself had told him he wasn’t in a rush to die anymore. So, the gunman being the first out of the gang to go into that sweet night wasn’t fair in the slightest.

The silence that follows the final mound of dirt being placed and patted down is louder than anything in the world. Louder than an explosion, louder than the sound of Jigen’s magnum echoing in their memories, louder than the assault rifles that took down a man who seemed far too stubborn to die.  
  
But it’s not louder than when Lupin, dressed uncharacteristically in all black, fell to his knees and wailed for the loss of his partner.   
  
Save to say Lupin and his gang lay low for a while. Even Fujiko stays in mourning for a time. Though she is quickly more active than the other two, already scamming rich old men and getting her way wherever she goes.  
  
The death of Jigen feels unreal. Zenigata waits for it to be fake, like Lupin has done with himself so many times. That Jigen Daisuke will show up, guns blazing, with a cigarette clamped in his teeth. But Jigen isn’t theatric. Lupin’s only helped him fake his death once. When Zenigata shows up for the first calling card heist in about a little more than a year, the gunman doesn’t make a spectacular return. Neither does Lupin, if anyone’s being honest. The greatest thief in the world tries to stay as he once was, but with Jigen being gone for good, Lupin seemed less and less motivated to pull of spectacular heists as he once did.  
  
Zenigata is next on death’s list.

He retired about five years or so after Jigen’s smile is lost to the earth, much to Lupin’s displeasure and obvious anger at the inspector. He and Goemon broke into his apartment after he gave the chief his three weeks’ notice. Yata would be keeping up the Lupin case, but it wouldn’t be the same. In all fairness, Zenigata had pointed out to Lupin in the soft light of his kitchen, it hadn’t been the same for five years. Zenigata’s hair was graying, he wasn’t as fast as he used to be, nor did he heal as well. An old injury in his knee began to act up, meaning he would need a cane, meaning he wouldn’t be able to chase the thief and his dwindled gang.   
  
The argument stretched on for the better half of the night, but in the end, Zenigata was finally able to share a drink with both Lupin and Goemon before they left. It must’ve given his soul some kind of closure, because the dear old inspector had passed away not half a year later.   
  
Fujiko, Lupin, and Goemon go to his funeral in disguises since everyone on the force and their mothers seemed to attend. It’s more crowded than they thought it be. The inspector not only commanded respect from others, but he was also kind and giving. People were there from all walks of life, all silently thanking the man for even the small amount of kindness he had given them. Zenigata’s daughter was there, even gave a soft, yet kind speech about her father and the dedication he showed to his job. Yata stands next to Ami, holding the young woman’s hand tightly as they say goodbye to the man who had served as a father figure to them for so many years. Lupin and his gang stay long enough to watch Zenigata lowered into the ground and be buried, but Lupin makes a hasty retreat shorty after. They have their own reception in a bleakly quiet hotel room later that evening.   
  
With Jigen and Zenigata out of the picture, not much is there to stop death from coming for the master thief himself.   
  
It happens years later. Lupin the Third is graying around the sideburns, but he managed to bring a small, Lupin IV into the world. He raises her for about ten years; showing her the ropes, trying to keep a smile on his face as he describes the importance of finding a good team, showing her his many gadgets, watching her tinker with her own, and helping her make her own drafts for calling cards. The legacy of Lupin is important, you know. Goemon comes to visits, though not very often. This isn’t how Lupin the Third saw his retirement, unable to share it with the man he called his best friend. Jigen’s tatted hat hangs on the wall and that’s when he makes the decision.

He sends the little girl away to Fujiko’s for a week. Only for death to come for him in the form of a last grand heist. He dies in New York, ironically enough. Yata and the mob chase him to the Brooklyn bridge. The now inspector demands the thief return what he stole through a megaphone since he hasn’t learned to yell as loud as his predecessor yet, the mob is much more direct and much less merciful. A shot tears clean through Lupin’s chest, but his smile does not falter as he tumbled backwards into the harbor.  
  
Lupin’s funeral is as small as Jigen’s. Yata attends in Zenigata’s place. Goemon helps bury his second friend, and Fujiko and the little Lupin IV stand off to the side adorned in black. It’s not fancy. It’s not grandiose. But it’s nicer than most thief funerals, if you asked anyone. The number of flowers at the funeral would have been enough to make the thief smile. They buried Lupin the Third on a small plot of French land near a cottage, next to a headstone with his grandfather’s name on it.   
  
Goemon retreats into the mountains, as expected, filled with shame at being unable to protect not one, but two of his closest friends. A letter comes for Fujiko Mine, her hair more gray than red, years later telling her he has passed on. His funeral is unbearably traditional and stuffy, but she attends nonetheless, accompanied but an older and a much more accomplished Lupin the Fourth.   
  
After that. The sinking realization that her friends, her _family_ , are gone, sets in for Fujiko. Jigen had died too soon, Zenigata too normally, Lupin too unceremoniously, and Goemon too ... abruptly. She decides that it certainly wasn’t fair. Fujiko retires to an old, four-bedroom safe house on a remote island. The house is too big and too empty, but it has enough old photos and favorite movies to make it feel like she’s not alone. She spends the rest of her days there, watching Jigen’s favorite westerns, tending to Goemon’s personal zen garden, and pouring over Lupin’s pressed flower journal. It’s not the same as having her friends there, but she knew she’d see them soon enough.


End file.
